


Living With the Uncertainty

by kitsunechikyu



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Barista Even, Bipolar Disorder, Crushes, Depression, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunechikyu/pseuds/kitsunechikyu
Summary: "Despite Jonas’ insistence that finding your soulmate was all a part of the capitalist agenda, Isak secretly liked the possibility of having someone made especially for you; two halves of one whole searching for each other across time and space. It might have been a little sappy, and not usually his style --- he was going to be a micro-biologist after all --- but he couldn’t help but hope that he’d find his someday."or Isak is just barely dragging himself through life and Even is the cute barista that works at the local coffee shop.(Soulmate & Coffee Shop AU)





	1. En

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! So I really love both Coffee Shop and Soulmate AU's, so I decided to start a mixture of the two with my loves Isak and Even. Will switch POV's, but will be all in 3rd person past tense.

 

Jonas once told him that he thought the Soulmate System was inherently flawed. They’d been sitting on his bed smoking a joint, like they did most days after school, when he’d burst into a rant about the politics of it all.

 

“It’s a huge scam man,” he’d said, waving the blunt around wildly.

 

Isak hadn’t had to look at him to know he was scrunching up his eyebrows. He always got particularly grumpy when talking about social issues.

 

“How’d you mean?”

 

“It’s a twisted idea that the media uses to sell the promise of a perfect relationship. They make it seem like when you see your soulmate for the first time everything is suddenly a fairy tale, but that isn’t how life works. Having a soulmate doesn’t necessarily mean you are gonna have a happy ending with them. Soulmarks aren’t a guarantee of long-lasting love, they’re just a biological side effect.”

 

At the time, Isak had nodded along solemnly, as he often did when he didn’t agree with his best friend but wanted to avoid an argument. He figured Jonas was just bitter about breaking up with Eva. The two of them hadn’t been soulmates, but they’d still decided to date because Jonas liked to think he was above the concept of destiny. Apparently, Eva hadn’t felt the same way since she’d dumped him the minute she found hers. The two agreed to try and remain friends, but it was easier said than done.

 

Despite Jonas’ insistence that finding your soulmate was all a part of the capitalist agenda, Isak secretly liked the possibility of having someone made especially for you; two halves of one whole searching for each other across time and space. It might have been a little sappy, and not usually his style --- he was going to be a micro-biologist after all --- but he couldn’t help but hope that he’d find his someday.

 

Though Eva and Vilde had met at sixteen, it was generally uncommon for people to discover their soulmate in high school. Isak knew a few who had, including his parents and his friend Eskild’s younger sister --- she’d grown up with hers --- but for the vast majority, the connection was made in later years, if at all. Many spent their entire lives looking, and some found them without even realizing their soulmark had changed.  

 

Isak was constantly checking his; a little sun, with swirling patterned arms that sat just below his collarbone on the left side, a few inches above his heart. He’d traced the outline of it a thousand times, trying to will it to life. He knew that it would stay in black and white until he met the person with the corresponding mark, but sometimes if he closed his eyes, he could imagine it blossoming into a bright yellow, or a soft orange. He kept it hidden, mostly to avoid others prying into his personal life, but also because a part of him wanted to save it for when it was flushed with colour.

 

However, as much as he wanted it, there was also a tiny voice inside Isak’s head whispering that even if he found his soulmate, it wouldn’t matter. Jonas was right to some extent at least, having someone out there for you didn’t necessarily equal a happy relationship. Isak’s parents were a perfect example of a soul-bond gone wrong. Their marriage had deteriorated almost as fast as his mother’s mental health, and these days they could barely stand to be in the same room with one another, let alone act like soulmates ought to. There was something terrifying about the prospect of not being loved by the one person who was meant to care more than anyone else, and Isak had an awful fear that he might be unlovable simply by genetics. His dad had left him behind and his mom spent most of her time looking through him like he wasn’t even there. He only saw her a couple times a month now, having moved out and taken refuge in his friend’s flat, but it didn’t change the fact that she was emotionally vacant. He did receive copious amounts of texts from her, but they were mostly bible verses or gibberish. Isak couldn’t remember the last time his mother had been able to act like a parent.

 

There was also another fear that jeopardized the idea of finding his match. It was sticky and suffocating, constantly threatening to swallow him whole and Isak kept it tucked behind his ribcage, far away from unfriendly eyes. All his life, he’d been told that soulmates were meant to be male and female. It was what the pastors at his church preached, it was the message passed down to him by his family members, and he might have been able to believe it if it weren’t for his overtly lacking sense of attraction to girls. He’d tried to like them. Pushed himself into thinking about kissing them and holding their hands; dated one or two, hooked up with a few at parties. But no matter what he did, he didn’t feel that spark, and he most certainly couldn’t force himself into having sex with them, though some had been more than willing. Isak’s father had suggested that he just hadn’t met the right woman yet, but Isak was ninety-five percent sure that it wasn’t the girls that were the problem, it was him. He felt broken.

 

The worst part was that no one knew. All his friends saw him as a kind of Casanova who could pick up any chick he wanted, whenever he wanted. He could be charming and smooth with girls because he didn’t really care about screwing things up with them. He wasn’t interested in their looks or the way their skin felt under his hands. If he had the option, he wouldn’t be touching them at all, but he had to keep up appearances, so he swept a new one off their feet at every party he and the boys went to. Magnus never let up about how jealous he was. Isak always laughed it off, teased him about being too desperate, high fived Jonas and Mahdi when they congratulated him. He participated in conversations about how great boobs were and how Sylvia in first year was drop dead gorgeous, all the while cringing internally at his own bold-faced lies. Sometimes, Isak felt more alone surrounded by his friends than he did by himself. All he could do was keep on pretending, and waiting for the world to change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

           


	2. To

“Wakey, wakey my little grumpy-pants.”

 

Isak groaned as his flat mate’s shrill voice rang through the apartment. For someone who was so keen on getting his beauty sleep, Eskild certainly got up early in the morning. How anyone could be that functional before noon was beyond Isak, but the older man also liked tofu and kale and had sex to the Lion King soundtrack, so maybe his internal clock wasn’t the weirdest thing about him.

 

He stood draped across the door frame as Isak clambered around for his phone, which he’d somehow managed to get tangled up in his sheets.

 

“For fuck’s sake Eskild. It’s 6am, what do you want?”

 

Eskild smirked and put his hand on his hip. He was wearing bright red nail polish that matched the silk bathrobe he was wrapped in.

 

“I’m just trying to make sure you aren’t late for school,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to sleep through your alarm again.”

 

Isak felt his cheeks heat up.

 

“That was one time,” he mumbled.

 

“Yes, and I’ve never seen you so frantic in your life. You missed one class and looked like you were about to spontaneously combust. It is my duty as your guru to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

 

Eskild moved to sit on his bed and Isak had to scramble to avoid having his feet crushed. He glared at his flatmate, who gave him a shit-eating grin and bopped him on the nose.

 

“Oh, don’t pout. I’m just trying to help,” he said.

 

“Me? Pouting?” Isak scoffed. “I never pout.”

 

“Uh huh. Well, I’ve made toast and coffee if you want some, Mr. Not Pouting. Better get to it before Linn does though, you know how much she loves her caffeine.”

 

Eskild pat his leg and got up. He gave Isak a little wink before disappearing out the door again, silk robe swooshing dramatically. Isak rolled his eyes.

 

“Fucking babysitter,” he whispered to himself.

 

He sighed and glanced down at his phone. There were two messages from Jonas and a calendar reminder that he had a test in Chemistry. He quickly typed out a response to his best friend’s drunk dialing from the night before, and began searching his floor for a clean shirt. By the time he was dressed and awake enough to actually see straight, he only had an hour left until school started. He stumbled out into the kitchen where Linn was pouring herself a cup of coffee.

 

“Morning,” Isak said.

 

Linn nodded at him, a piece of toast hanging from her mouth. She didn’t say more than that, moving back towards her bedroom without a sound. Isak smiled despite his bitter mood. Linn was quiet and kind of strange. She spent most of her time alone and was generally subdued, but she was also sweet and knew when to give people space. Plus, she could be really funny when she was in a good enough place to open up. Isak was quite fond of her.

 

He moved to grab his shoes from the front hall and slip on his coat. Oslo could be chilly in the fall and he wasn’t about to catch another cold. Last time he had, Eskild made such a fuss that he’d wondered if it would be easier to just die. He knew his flatmate meant well, but Eskild had a way of smothering him. He was like a mother hen and Isak was his tall and slightly awkward chick.

 

Isak looked over at the coffee pot, which was now almost empty and decided that it wasn’t worth making himself a cup of left-over sludge. He’d pop by the local café instead. They made an amazing vanilla latte and he had been one of their regular customers for years. It was a little more expensive than brewing it at home, but Isak rarely spent money on anything other than food and the occasional video game, so he thought it was alright.

 

He pulled his backpack up onto his shoulder and peeked at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He looked tired, with dark smudges swiped under his eyes and a fading pillow mark on his cheek. Isak fluffed his hair up a bit and groaned when it wouldn’t settle the way he wanted it to. He grabbed a snapback off the rack instead, blinked at himself in the mirror again and decided it was good enough.

 

* * *

 

 

Isak reached the café at quarter to eight. He figured he could make it to class on time if the line wasn’t too long. Unfortunately, there were at least ten people waiting for their orders and he cursed himself internally for spending the extra time trying to figure out his disgruntled mop of curls.

 

He tapped his foot impatiently. The man in front of him was talking angrily on his phone and kept shoving his arm backwards. His face was switching between hues of red making him look like a rotten tomato in a suit. After the third time of only barely managing to dodge getting hit, Isak was ready to scream. He was going to be late now, and if he wasn’t careful he was also going to end up in an altercation with a middle-aged banker in the middle of a coffee shop. When he finally got to the front of the line, he was too annoyed and distracted to hear the barista ask him for his order.

 

“Sorry, what did you say?” Isak asked, shaking his head.

 

“I said, what can I get for you?”

 

The voice was a lot deeper than Isak was expecting. He knew everyone who worked at the café, having spent many afternoons plopped down at one of the tables doing homework and many mornings relying on their drinks to fuel his day. The girl who usually worked the early shift knew his order off by heart, and that was _definitely_ not her voice. He glanced up and felt his breath catch. In front of him was the prettiest boy he had ever seen --- piercing eyes, golden hair, pink lips --- like a renaissance painting come to life. He had his eyebrows quirked upward and was giving Isak a lopsided smirk that made his stomach flutter pleasantly. It took Isak a full minute to realise that he still hadn’t answered the question.

 

“I- uh, sorry. Vanilla latte. I’d like a vanilla latte. Please,” he stuttered.

 

The boy nodded thoughtfully.

 

“Good choice. Though I’m more of a tea person myself,” he said, grin growing. “Can I get a name for the cup?”

 

“Uh sure. It’s-”

 

“Isak!”

 

Isak turned his head to see his regular server come up behind the register and rest her arm on the new boy’s shoulder. She seemed too comfortable around him for them to be only recently acquainted. Isak felt a spark of irrational jealousy flare up in his chest.

 

“Hey, Emilie. How’s it going?” he asked, trying to ignore the heat coursing through his body.

 

“I’d be better if _someone_ hadn’t just spilled flour all over the kitchen floor,” Emilie said, side eyeing the door next to her. “But I guess I’m okay. How are you? I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.”

 

Isak gave a jittery shrug. He had been swamped with homework for the past month and on top of that his father had been pressuring him into checking on his mom more frequently. He hadn’t had time for fancy coffee. He’d mostly just headed straight home and passed out on his bed unless the boys dragged him elsewhere.

 

“I’ve been preoccupied, I guess,” he said.

 

It was a half-truth.

 

Emilie gave him a sympathetic smile and moved off the pretty boy’s shoulder to pat Isak’s arm. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, and the tips were frosted pink instead of their natural brown. She looked cute, and if he were any other straight boy he would have been drooling, but instead his eyes kept skating back to the Greek god standing next to her. Emilie looked between his sheepish gaze and her co-worker with a knowing smirk.

 

“I see you met Even,” she said.

Isak blinked up at her and nodded, trying to seem unfazed.

 

“Don’t let him scare you,” Emilie continued. “He may look all James Dean, but he’s really a big softie.”

 

She winked at the pretty boy – _Even_ – and ruffled his hair. The laugh that rang out of him had butterflies erupting in Isak’s stomach. It was bright and clear and made the skin around his eyes crinkle. He was beautiful.

 

“Leave me alone, Em. I’m trying to serve Isak and you’re making him wait,” Even said.

 

Isak’s brain halted at the sound of his name coming out of the pretty boy’s mouth. God, why was he so flustered? It was awful. He felt like a ten-year-old school boy with a crush and he was positive that the entire coffee shop could see the desperation on his face.

 

“Alright, alright,” Emilie said. “Just don’t forget the whipped cream. Isak likes whipped cream.”

 

She gave Isak another soft smile and turned on her heel to strut back into the kitchen. Even shook his head after her, but he looked incredibly fond. Isak couldn’t help but feel that sick jealousy swirling in his gut again. He didn’t even know this guy, and yet he couldn’t stand the idea of him having a girlfriend, no matter how nice she was. Even finished making his drink and rung the order into an old, beat up cash register. 

 

“Vanilla latte, with extra whip cream. That will be thirty-five kroner please,” he said, still grinning.

 

Isak fished out the money from his pocket and went to hand it over. In the process, their fingers brushed and suddenly the whole world stopped. Shivers raced down Isak’s arm like he’d been shocked, setting his skin alight. His body felt alive and warmer than it had in ages, everything inside him bubbling with excitement. He looked up at Even with wide, surprised eyes and found the other boy staring at him stock still, a similar expression on his face. For a moment, neither of them moved. There was no noise in the background, no angry bankers on telephones, or giggling teenage girls, just the two of them.

 

Then Isak’s sense of self-preservation kicked in.

 

“I uh- you… th-thank-you,” he stuttered, desperately trying to extract himself from the now seemingly intimate situation. “You can keep the change.”

 

He grabbed his cup and quickly turned to exit the café. He thought he may have heard someone call after him, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew as he walked down the street, latte in hand, was that his mind was buzzing and that the space under his collarbone was almost painfully hot. He lifted his fingers to rub the spot right where his soulmark lay.

 

           


	3. Tre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I know this one is short, but I wanted to at least post something for everyone, seeing as it has been a while. Just a little intro to Even's POV. Thanks for sticking with me!

Even Bech Næsheim liked to believe he was an optimist.

 

Despite certain factors that often made him feel like the opposite, Even tried his best to look on the bright side of life. He threw himself into art and music, smiled at everyone he met and always attempted to do the most he was capable of. He was hopeful for others, but he had also never been very good at convincing himself that he would have a happy ending. Though he was a self-admitted romantic, he tended to be drawn towards stories filled with tragedy and painful outcomes. He believed in soulmates whole-heartedly, but he didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to find his and he had long-since made peace with that. Or at least, he _thought_ he had. Until a boy with the nicest green eyes he’d ever seen walked into the café he worked at, touched his palm and took his breath away.

 

When he was little, Even’s mother used to tell him about the first time she’d met his father. He remembered sitting on his bed, curled up in his favourite Star Wars blanket, listening to her describe the feeling she’d experienced when they’d shook hands; the jolt in her fingertips, the warmth, the overwhelming sense of home. Even had been awestruck with every rendition. He’d never expected to feel something so strong or so pleasant, but when the boy’s feather-light touch had met his, Even’s body had turned into a live-wire. It seemed like the boy had felt something too, but before he’d had the chance to speak, Green Eyes was stumbling out the coffee shop door, leaving Even to stare after him.

 

“Earth to Bech Næsheim.”

 

Even turned around and was met with an impatient looking Emilie. She had her hands on her hips and one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised.

 

“Huh?” Even said.

 

Emilie sighed. She moved to stand next to him and flicked his forehead.

 

“Ow. What the hell was that for?” he said, rubbing a hand over the sensitive skin.

 

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” Emilie said. “Or your customer.”

 

She pointed a manicured nail at a stout lady in a neon pink sweater who had migrated to the cash register next to him. She seemed unimpressed, if her glare was anything to go by.

 

“Ah,” Even winced. “Sorry about that.”

 

“Whatever, space cadet,” Emilie said, waving her hand at him. “Just make sure you take the next one. Don’t want to have to fire you after only a week and a half.”

 

Even smiled at her meekly. He hadn’t meant to zone out, but he could hardly help it after meeting what could potentially be his soulmate. _Isak,_ his mind supplied. Isak… what a pretty name. It suited him. The boy was easily one of the cutest people Even had ever seen, with a head full of golden curls and a perfectly sculpted cupid’s bow. He was like a little angel, except a bit grumpier and with a jaw-line that looked like it could cut glass. Even had been weak at the knees the second he’d laid eyes on him and he’d nearly bowed over when they’d touched. His chest was still burning from the contact.

 

“Hey, Emilie,” he said, fingers playing with the neck of his shirt (his soul-mark was itching up a storm).

 

Emilie hummed, distractedly. She was fiddling with one of the coffee machine nozzles, smacking the back of it with more force than was probably necessary. Even scooted over to her and shooed her hands away from it.

 

“What?” she huffed.

 

“Who was that kid? Uh, Isak?” Even asked.

 

Emile shot him an amused look, her smirk making her dimples show.

 

“Why do you wanna know, Næsheim? You got a crush?”

 

Even shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. He didn’t need her to make a huge fuss about this, especially not with a bunch of customers watching. Besides, just because he felt a spark, didn’t mean this boy was his soulmate. He might just be projecting, (he hoped he wasn’t).

 

“I’m just curious,” Even said.

 

Emilie didn’t look convinced, but she relented anyway.

 

“He’s a second year, at Nissen. Regular customer. Been coming here for nearly two years now. Sweet kid, he tips really well.”

 

Even blinked.

 

“Wait, Nissen? As in where-”

 

“You just transferred? Yes, Ev. That Nissen.”

 

Emilie glanced at the clock above their heads.

 

“Speaking of which,” she said. “You should get going. Your class starts in twenty minutes.”

 

Even bit his lip. It was his first official day back at school since his _incident_ , which would have been nerve-wracking enough on its own if he were still just attending Elvebakken, but it was ten times worse now that he was completely starting over. He had no friends at Nissen, or at least none that would acknowledge him, and he had to retake a bunch of classes from the previous year. It was the lesser of a few evils, but it still sucked, though maybe not as much as he thought it would if there were boys like Isak walking around campus.

 

Even nodded and slinked towards the kitchen door. He placed a quick kiss on Emilie’s cheek, pulling a slight exasperated laugh out of her, before slipping his apron off and ducking into the coat room. While he changed, he tried to memorize the feeling of Isak’s fingers brushing against his. The jump, the fire, the rush. He wanted to check his soulmark right away, but he was running out of time, so he figured he would have to wait until he got to the school. Even smiled to himself.

 

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

        

 

 

 


	4. Fire

Isak made it to school nearly twenty minutes after the bell had rung.

 

Walking into class late was one of his least favourite things – he hated being stared at – but it was better than not going to class at all, especially when it came to biology. He needed to get a perfect six this year, which meant studying extra hard and taking as many notes as possible. He could _not_ afford to skip. Luckily, he had the best science partner in the world, and she was always willing to help him, even if she looked like she wanted to tear his head off right now.

 

Sana glared at him from their shared work-table, her dark eyeshadow making the expression even more menacing. Isak shot her a guilty smile over his shoulder as he was chastised by their teacher. He was never going to hear the end of this. After Ms. Nilsen had properly torn into him, he made his way over to his seat and plopped down next to his friend. Sana radiated annoyance.

 

“So, coffee was more important than getting to first period?” she hissed, eyeing Isak’s paper cup.

 

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

 

He tried for his usual casual sarcasm, but the words didn’t come out as aloof as he hoped. He was still a little shaken from his encounter with Even, and his nerves were fried from a narrowly avoided collision with a biker in the school courtyard. Isak didn’t have the emotional stamina to put up a fight against Sana’s decidedly unimpressed eyebrows.

 

“I needed coffee and Linn drank the whole pot we had at home, okay? It’s not my fault that dozens of people decided to go to the same café as me. Or that the service was slow or that there was a…”

 

Isak cut himself off before he got too far. The last thing he needed was for Sana to find out that he was late because he’d spent ten minutes drooling over a cute boy who may or may not be his soulmate. That’d be one hell of a way to come out. Just thinking about Even – his hair, his eyes, his lips – made him blush. Isak ducked his head and rubbed at his warm cheeks.

 

“You know what? Whatever, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

 

Sana looked at him sceptically, but something in her eyes told him she caught his momentary slip-up. She didn’t comment on it though, and that was one of the reasons Isak loved her. Instead she shook her head and slid over her notebook.

 

“Just copy down the notes, Isabell. Wouldn’t want you falling behind and leaving me to save your sorry ass.”

 

Isak gave her a wry smile.

 

“You’re the best, Sanasol.”

 

“I know I am.”

 

* * *

 

“I swear, dude. She had the tongue and everything.”

 

Isak picked at his sandwich absently, trying and failing to focus on Magnus as he described his latest sex dream. It included some sort of cat-girl hybrid and an entire marching band of tuba players, which, while disturbing, wasn’t the weirdest thing to come out of the boy’s mind. Once, he’d dreamt that he and Vilde – a lesbian of epic proportions – screwed in a banana-shaped boat, surrounded by lions, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Isak often wondered what feline related incident was responsible for their constant reappearance in his friend’s psyche. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. Isak cast a sideways glance at Jonas who was shaking his head in disbelief.

 

“Dude, you have a screw loose.”

 

Magnus huffed.

 

“What? It’s not like I can control my subconscious.”

 

“He’s just frustrated because he can’t get a real-life girl to fuck him,” Mahdi laughed, jostling Jonas’ shoulder.

 

One of their favourite past times was taking the piss out of Magnus. Isak would almost feel bad about it if the guy didn’t make it so damn easy. He had a plethora of stupid questions to ask, and the kind of naivety that made him a perfect target for teasing. He usually took it in stride, and the boys would cut it out if they ever got too close to the line, but that didn’t stop Magnus from walking straight into it over and over.

 

“We can’t all be like Isak, alright? I swear he like, sold his soul or something to get that magic touch of his.”

 

Isak looked up at the sound of his name and shrugged indifferently. He honestly had no idea why girls liked him so much. He supposed he could be charming when he wanted to be, but most of the time he just acted like a total dick when it came to hookups. For some reason, his too-cool-for-school behaviour seemed to turn first and second year girls on, if the number of make-out sessions he’d had was anything to go by. He could never bring himself to commit to the whole thing though, no matter how hard he tried. Deep down he hated himself for it.

 

“Yeah, man. Didn’t Emma Larzen try to blow you in the bathroom at that party last week? She’s so hot, bro. You’re so lucky,” Madhi said.

 

Isak’s stomach turned at the memory. Emma Larzen _had_ in fact tried to blow him in a bathroom, and it had been one of the most awkward experiences of his life, right up there with his fourth-grade talent show. She’d gotten about as far as his belt buckle before he had pushed her off and bolted. It had been extremely embarrassing. He’d drank half a bottle of tequila trying to wipe her confused face from his mind.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Isak said.

 

“You guess?” Magnus looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? She’s like a solid ten.”

 

Isak shrugged, again.

 

“Yeah, okay. She’s pretty, but she’s a bit intense. Not really my type.”

 

Jonas scoffed.

 

“What is your type then?” he asked.

 

Isak’s mouth dried up. His _type_ was tall and broad. His _type_ was blonde hair and blue eyes and a little bit of stubble. His _type_ was the complete opposite of Emma, but he couldn’t tell anyone that, not even his best friends. Pictures of Even flickered through his brain and suddenly it was harder to breathe. Phantom heat licked at his soulmark, and Isak had to fight the urge to scratch at it. He coughed to dislodge the lump growing in his throat.

 

“I gotta piss,” he mumbled, grabbing his backpack and heading towards the cafeteria doors.

 

The boys called out after him, but he ignored them in favour of crashing into the men’s bathroom and locking himself in one of the stalls.

 

He needed to calm down. This wasn’t a big deal. He didn’t know for sure that Even was his soulmate. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t prove he was gay. He brought up a hand to his mark instinctively, letting his fingers trace circles around it. _Just check it you coward_ , his mind screamed.

 

A bang from somewhere nearby jolted him out of his panic. Outside the stall, he heard water running and someone sighing. Isak inhaled deeply, and tried to focus on the sound of the tap. When he finally got his breathing under control, his curiosity started to get the better of him. He bit his lip.

 

“Ah, fuck it.”

 

Carefully, he pulled down the collar of his shirt to peek at the miniature sun below his clavicle. The lighting wasn’t great, but that didn’t stop Isak from catching sight of the bright pop of yellow that lay there. His heart jumped in his chest. He’d thought about this moment so many times, imagined how exciting it would be to know that there was someone out there made especially for him. Now, however he just felt slightly ill. There was no way, _no way_. It couldn’t be Even, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe it was someone else he’d met during the day. _Who, dumbass? Sana? Emilie? The banker?_ Isak nearly chocked at the thought of that.

 

He quickly let go of his shirt and ran a hand through his sweaty curls, gripping his snapback tightly in the other. He couldn’t freak out here. He had fourth period in less than ten minutes. He needed to get a grip.

 

It was then that it occurred to him that the washroom door hadn’t made any sound since he’d walked in, meaning person outside was still standing there and that Isak was going to have to face them if he wanted to escape. The water was also still running, which was weird. Isak groaned and steeled himself. All he had to do was go out, wash his hands and leave. He didn’t even have to look at the guy. He flushed the toilet – because he really didn’t want the dude to know he’d just been having a mental breakdown in there – and opened the door. He only made it two steps before he was stopping in his tracks again, because man did the universe have it out for him today.

 

Standing at the bathroom sink, with one hand in his perfectly quaffed hair, was Even.

 

Isak’s brain short-circuited. Why was he here, _at_ _his_ _school_? Was he stalking him? What the ever-loving hell was happening? Isak debated running, but that would make Even think he was one of those gross slobs who didn’t wash their hands, and that would be a terrible impression to give his potential soulmate. He’d just have to go through with it. Maybe, if he was quiet, Even wouldn’t even spare him a glance.

 

Isak grit his teeth and walked towards the sink. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he stood beside the taller boy, his chest practically burning with anticipation. Even’s eyes locked onto him the second he came into view and Isak watched as a beaming smile spread across the other’s face.

 

“Halla,” Even said.

 

His voice sent shivers down Isak’s spine.

 

“H-halla,” Isak replied, the word catching in his throat.

 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

 

His grin was contagious and Isak found himself smiling back unwillingly.

 

“What, you mean you aren’t stalking me?” he said.

 

That startled a small laugh out of Even, who shook his wet hands and reached for the paper towel dispenser.

 

“Not on purpose, no. But now that I know you go here, I can’t say whether that will stay the same.”

 

He raised one of his eyebrows playfully and pulled out another napkin. Isak hummed.

 

“Dude, that’s creepy. We only just met this morning.”

 

Even shrugged.

 

“Well, with how cute you are, can you blame me?” he said.

 

Isak’s heart nearly stopped completely at the words. This wasn’t real. People like Even were not interested in people like him, no matter how many girls he’d hooked up with. This guy was on another level, and yet here he was calling _Isak_ cute.

 

“Uhh,” Isak stuttered, watching as Even pulled out the last of the napkins and threw them all in the bin.

 

“Oh, did you need one?” he asked, cocking his head.

 

Even turned, grabbed the closest paper towel to the top, and handed it to him. There was another jolt as their fingers touched and Isak wanted to drown in the sensation forever. His eyes slipped close for the briefest second. Next to him, he felt Even’s breath ghost over his cheek, warm and soft.

 

“See you later, Isak,” he whispered.

 

And then he was gone, leaving Isak alone to wonder whether or not he had dreamed the whole thing.

 

“See you,” he whispered back to the now empty bathroom.


End file.
